


Everything I Should Have Done

by Heath17_KO5



Category: Women's Soccer RPF
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Background Preath - Freeform, F/F, Post-Break Up, so'hara
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-23
Updated: 2019-11-23
Packaged: 2021-02-25 20:44:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21528592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Heath17_KO5/pseuds/Heath17_KO5
Summary: Kelley didn’t expect to have to deal with a broken heart during the happiest moment of her best friend’s life, but that’s what’s happening anyway.
Relationships: Kelley O'Hara/Emily Sonnett, Tobin Heath/Christen Press
Comments: 9
Kudos: 218





	Everything I Should Have Done

**Author's Note:**

> Prompted by Kat: "Family wedding/event and showing up at the other person's door"
> 
> This has a healthy dose of angst, but I promise there's payoff at the end. I hope you enjoy, and if you do, please leave me a comment! They fuel my writing process.

They hadn’t talked about how they were going to handle this. 

Actually, they hadn’t talked at all. 

Not since -

Well, they’d both said things they shouldn’t have and now was not the time to relive it. 

It’s bad enough that Kelley doesn’t know what side to sit on to begin with. Tobin’s been one of her best friends forever and Christen’s been like a little sister to her since she was nineteen and both families greet her like she’s a part of them. 

And then she sees her, blonde hair down, styled in loose waves around her face, a little shorter than the last time she saw her. She’s wearing a fitted navy blue dress that hugs her in all the right ways and dips down between her breasts in a way that is both sexy and tasteful. She’s laughing her goofy little laugh and her blue eyes are scrunched up and cheeks are an attractive rosy pink and Lindsey’s standing next to her laughing too, and Kelley feels her breath catch in her throat and an ache settle in her chest and yet she can’t look away. 

She hasn’t seen her yet, and it would be better if they can just avoid each other altogether. Kelley really should just go find a seat in between Alex and Allie and focus on the brides and the wedding and being there to support her friends on their happy day, but she can’t seem to force her feet to move and her eyes feel like they’re glued in place. 

And then, as if she can feel Kelley’s eye on her, Emily looks her way, and the smile that just seconds before had reached her eyes, falters. It doesn’t fall completely, but there’s a blankness in her eyes, and then she’s turning back to Lindsey, not glued in place the same way that Kelley is. 

It cuts deeper than it should. 

People are starting to take their seats around them, but across the room Emily makes no move to do so, and part of Kelley wonders if she’s waiting for Kelley to choose first. By rights she should get to sit on Tobin’s side. They’ve played on the Thorns together for years and Kelley knows that she’s been like a mentor to her. 

“I feel like I have to choose Tobin,” Alex says. “Just because seat buddies.”

“Same. She’s my Harry,” Allie says. 

“We go where they go,” Serv says, gesturing first at himself and Bati and then at Alex and Allie. 

Kelley nods, but doesn’t make a move to sit down with them. 

“Kel,” Alex says in a soft voice, right by her ear. 

It’s then that Kelley manages to tear her gaze away from Emily. Today isn’t about them. They can be mature adults. They can both sit on the same side at a wedding. It’s not like they’re going to sit next to each other. 

Everything is going to be fine, she tells herself as she follows Alex and Serv to the row just behind the family section, Allie and Bati trailing close behind. She tells herself it’s not weird being the single one in their group of friends (and to their credit they never make her feel like a fifth wheel). 

Everything is going to be fine. There’s going to be a beautiful wedding and she’s going to celebrate her best friends and she’s going to dance the night away with her friends and it’s going to be fun, dammit. 

She’s not going to think about her ex-girlfriend and all the things she could have done differently to make them work and all the things she shouldn’t have said and all the things she wishes she hadn’t heard. 

“I can’t believe neither of them asked us to be in the wedding,” Allie glowers for the tenth time today. 

Kelley pats her arm. “They did a siblings only wedding party,” she reminds her. 

“Then how come Nima gets to be in it?” 

Kelley laughs and rolls her eyes. “You know he’s like Chris’s brother. Besides, that way Jeff wouldn’t be the only guy.”

She knows Allie doesn’t really care. She’s trying to find something to focus on that isn’t how overwhelmed with emotions she is that Tobin and Christen are finally tying the knot. 

Kelley isn’t fooled. 

There won’t be a dry eye in the place by the time the vows are done being exchanged. 

  
  


Kelley makes it almost all the way through the vows without turning to look for her face in the crowd. She’s dabbed at her eyes and gotten emotional about how Tobin just looks so in love and Christen’s smile has never been brighter and both of them are choking up as they say the words they wrote themselves. She’s felt the cut of some of them, but she hasn’t looked, she hasn’t turned, she hasn’t sought her out. 

Until she does. 

Until Tobin says, “I never laugh as hard as I do with you,” and all Kelley can think is “Yes,” but it has nothing to do with Tobin or Christen, and before she realizes it her eyes are scanning Christen’s section. 

She doesn’t find her and that cuts in a different way. 

She tells herself not to turn all the way around, not to search the seats behind her. It’s too obvious. It’s too distracting. 

Today isn’t about her and mistakes she made and words she shouldn’t have said. Today isn’t about the empty feeling in her chest that she’s been trying to pretend wasn’t there for the better part of three months. 

“No matter how near or how far our jobs take us from each other, I always hold you close, right here,” Tobin says, tapping at her chest right where her heart is. 

It’s not the most eloquent of vows, but the words hit Kelley harder than anything else that has been said so far today. 

She can’t stop herself from turning around in her seat. 

She expects Emily to be further back. She expects there to still be so much distance between them that isn’t created just by their own minds. 

Instead she’s three rows back. That’s it. 

Emily has been sitting three rows behind her this entire time and Kelley feels like she should have felt that. She should have known. 

Emily’s eyes meet hers, but her face doesn’t flicker with any hint of emotion. There’s no regret, there’s no relief, there’s no embarrassment, there’s no affection. There’s a set jaw and an even gaze, and then Emily looks past her, back to where Tobin is finishing her vows, and Alex pinches Kelley in the side. 

It’s only then that Kelley remembers to breathe again. 

She pretends that the tears that spring to her eyes are from Tobin’s words and Tobin’s words alone as rings are slid over fingers and two of her best friends celebrate one of the happiest days of their lives. 

  
  


Kelley tries to let herself get lost in the music, in the toasts, in the conversation at her table, in the way Tobin and Christen move seamlessly together in their first dance, in the endless clinking of glasses and kisses through laughter and smiles. Kelley tries to keep her eyes from searching Emily out in the room at every opportunity. 

She tears up and then laughs at Allie’s speech, until Allie gets a little long-winded and then she pulls her down and steals the microphone and delivers one of her own that makes everyone laugh except the one person that she wants to. 

Emily talks to Lindsey at her table. She laughs with Rose. She steals Sammy away from Pat and pulls her onto the dance floor. She pulls Mal and Rose in for some group dance they’ve come up with. 

Kelley tries not to watch. 

Kelley tries not to be aware. 

Kelley dances with Alex. Kelley laughs with Allie. Kelley talks to Becky until they’re both out of wine and need a refill. Kelley catches up with Sinc. Kelley congratulates the happy couple. Kelley lets Channing and Tyler and Perry and Katie drag her onto the dance floor for a circle until she accidentally bumps into Emily, and then suddenly she can’t breathe and she’s excusing herself for some fresh air. 

  
  
  


It’s her fault. 

She’s tried not to think it. She’s tried saying that it was a mutual parting. She’s tried to hold on to her anger at the things that Emily had said or not said. 

It’s her fault, though, and the anger that she’d tried to have for Emily has slowly, without her realizing, turned in on herself. 

Now it’s suffocating her. 

She gets hit by a cloud of cigarette smoke when she makes it through the doors and she coughs and moves further away, down the side of the building, but she still can’t breathe. 

It feels like she’s gasping for air while trying to convince herself that she actually deserves to breathe it all at the same time and it’s exhausting. 

If she’d only answered. If she’d only said one little word. That’s all it would have taken and they could have worked through it. They could have moved past it. It was just a fight. Their first big fight, but just a fight nonetheless. 

Other couples fight. She’s seen Tobin and Christen do it first hand, yet here she is at their wedding and their love has only grown. 

The word love stops her in her tracks and sets her gasping for air all over again.

Her heart is racing and her brain feels fuzzy and somewhere at the back of her mind the only remaining rational part of it suggests that maybe she’s having a panic attack, but all she can focus on is the word love. 

She hadn’t said it, but that didn’t mean she hadn’t thought it, that she hadn’t felt it. 

But she hadn’t said it and she’d told herself that if she didn’t say it then it wasn’t real- if she hadn’t said it then it couldn’t hurt her. 

She hadn’t said it, so her heart couldn’t break when she let Emily walk away shaking her head with tears in her eyes. 

She hadn’t said it, so the overwhelming ache in her chest whenever she so much as thought Emily’s name didn’t mean she’d lost it. 

She hadn’t said it, so she didn’t need to feel bad about not fighting for it. 

  
  


It’s Tobin who finds her. 

Tobin in her white dress with flowers in her hair. Tobin with her perfect, yet understated makeup. Tobin with her smile that hasn’t left her face all day. Tobin who should be inside with her guests. Tobin who should be dancing with her bride. 

Tobin on her wedding day.

Tobin finds her and rubs her back and lets her find her breath. Tobin who helps her stand and looks at her in that way that she always has, that’s so familiar, that is a constant that Kelley has always been able to rely on, long before Emily Sonnett was ever a part of her life. 

“You good, dude?” Tobin finally asks. 

Kelley nods, then shakes her head. “Sorry. It’s your wedding. What are you even doing out here?”

Tobin bites her lip and squints at Kelley, like she’s not really sure she should say. Then she shrugs. “Sonny said you looked sick.”

Kelley chokes. She chokes on air and she’s sputtering and coughing and Tobin is rubbing her back again, and Kelley tells her heart, she tells the ache pounding in her chest, that it doesn’t mean anything. 

“I don’t think she thought Al or Harry would talk to her. I think she thought I’d pass on the message, but-” Tobin shrugs. 

“It’s your wedding. You should be inside. You shouldn’t be out here worrying about me. You should be inside kissing your wife.”

The way Tobin smiles at the word “wife” makes Kelley’s chest ache even more. “Chris told me to come,” Tobin replies. “If I didn’t, she would’ve.”

Kelley knows it’s true. 

“I’m sorry,” she croaks. 

Tobin shakes her head. “Nah, dude. Everyone else’s lives don’t stop just ‘cause it’s my wedding day.” 

“You are like the complete opposite of a bridezilla,” Kelley jokes, and Tobin grins. 

Her expression turns serious after a moment, though and she looks at Kelley like she’s thinking really hard and then she says, “Have you gone a single day without thinking about her since you broke up?”

Kelley doesn’t answer. She pretends like she’s thinking, but she doesn’t have to think. She knows. 

“Just one,” Tobin adds helpfully, knowingly. “Or half a day?” 

Kelley wants to say “Yes.” She wants to say it and have it be the truth. She shakes her head instead. 

“What about an hour?”

Kelley swallows hard and looks away, but it’s enough of an answer for Tobin. Tobin who’s known her since she was a dorky teenager still figuring out that she liked girls. Tobin who’s played with her so long that they don’t have to look up to find each other on the field. Tobin, one of her very best friends in the world. 

“I think that should tell you something, Kel.”

It does, but Kelley doesn’t know what to do about it. She doesn’t know how to fix it. She doesn’t have words or a plan, and she doesn’t even know if Emily would be open to her TRYING to fix it. 

What if it’s unfixable? 

Kelley nods anyway, and Tobin pats her on the arm and offers her a smile. “You coming back in?” 

Kelley takes a deep breath. “Yeah. In a minute.” 

“Okay,” Tobin says. She stays with her, leaning against the wall in her wedding dress, looking up at the stars and ignoring her guests, and Kelley leans into her a little until she finds the strength to stand on her own two feet and head inside. 

She only stays long enough to say her goodbyes. 

  
  


Kelley paces her floor until she’s worried that she’ll either wear a hole in the carpet or she’ll have the front desk ringing at any minute with complaints from whoever was unlucky enough to have the room beneath hers. 

She’s tried to shake everything off. She’s tried telling herself that it’s just seeing Emily again for the first time since everything that has her so worked up. She’s tried focussing on the fun parts of the day. 

She’s showered and changed into comfy sweats. She’s flipped through every channel on the hotel TV four times. She’s read the same page in her book at least a dozen times. 

She’s done anything and everything she can to shake Emily Sonnett from her mind tonight and give her some peace except actually deal. 

So that’s what she’s trying now. 

She thinks about the start: the shy touches, the subtle flirting, the heat that had flooded through her every time Emily had said, “Ms. Kelley.” 

She thinks about the early days: sneaking around so as to not throw off team dynamics, late night facetimes, sending each other memes at all hours of the day and night, getting caught, first by Christen and then by Rose and then everyone just KNOWING.

She thinks about the first hint of roughness: the stab of jealousy at Emily being obviously flirted with, the annoyance that she hadn’t immediately claimed them as together, the way Emily had refused to admit that she’d flirted back a little. 

She thinks about the days leading to the end: the distance, the way it felt like such an effort just to find time when their schedules overlapped, the way they’d both let little annoyances build up, the way they’d both snapped too quickly. 

She thinks about the final fight: the way Emily’s eyes had filled with tears, the defeated tone in her voice, the way every inch of Kelley’s body had screamed at her to say the word that Emily longed to hear, to chase her down, to fight for her to stay and how she’d ignored it. 

She doesn’t know when the tears start, but now they’re streaming down her face and she has to muffle her sobs with a pillow as she closes her eyes and lets herself cry the way she hasn’t since that very first night after they broke up. 

She doesn’t know how long she cries, but when the tears finally dry up and her sobs have calmed to deep, shuddery breaths, there’s a small mountain of used tissues on her bed and a desperate need for a new pillowcase. 

Her legs feel like they’re made of lead as she drags herself to the bathroom and scrubs at her face, not really caring when she gets a little water in her eyes. They burn anyway. 

She blows her nose again, taking deep breaths until she’s able to breathe almost clearly, and then she looks at herself in the mirror, eyes rimmed red, face freckled and splotchy, hair a little damp around her face. She looks like a mess. 

She looks like- 

Well, she looks like someone with a broken heart. 

Her body is drained and half of her just wants to wander back into her room and crawl under the blankets and sleep until she has to check out tomorrow. 

The other half of her knows that rest won’t come easy tonight unless she makes a decision. 

She’s been good at ignoring. She’s been good at pushing away. She’s been good at lying to herself. 

It hasn’t gotten her anywhere. 

Tonight, she resolves, looking herself in the eyes in the mirror, she’s going to do something else. 

  
  


It hadn’t taken a lot to get Emily’s room number. She’d pocketed a hundred just in case bribery had been necessary, but the girl at the desk was a fan and knew they were both part of the wedding bookings and she’d given it up without Kelley even having to ask twice. 

It takes a lot more to get her feet to walk from the elevator down the hall to Emily’s room. 

It takes even more to convince herself to knock. 

Emily’s probably asleep already. Kelley hasn’t even checked the time. 

She probably has a roommate. Lindsey’s probably in there with her. Or Rose. Or Mal. 

Or they could have gone out after the reception. They’re young enough that an afterparty or bar hopping might have been appealing. 

It’s a bad idea.

She should start with a call. 

Or a text. A text is good. 

As much as she can’t bring herself to knock on the door, she can’t seem to make her feet turn around and walk away either. 

She takes a deep breath and steels herself for the inevitable rejection, for the door slamming in her face, for Emily refusing to even open the door in the first place. She raises her hand and drops it back to her side, closing her eyes and leaning her head against the door. 

Maybe she should try in the morning. Maybe then everyone will have a slightly clearer head. Maybe Emily will be more willing to hear her out. 

She doesn’t move. 

“Are you gonna knock?” Emily’s voice makes her jump, muffled as it is through the door. 

She sounds annoyed, and this already isn’t going the way that Kelley wants it to. 

“Are you gonna open the door if I do?” she asks, her voice coming out as a croak. 

“I haven’t decided,” Emily replies, and Kelley can hear a hoarseness there that tells her that maybe she’s not the only one who’s been crying tonight. 

She can’t walk away now. Not now that Emily knows she’s there. Not now they’ve actually spoken words to each other. 

Kelley knocks. 

She holds her breath and waits, counting out in her head, 1 Mississippi, 2 Mississippi, 3 Mississippi, 4 Mississippi, 5 Mississippi. 

The door opens. First it’s just a crack, and then wider until Emily’s holding it all the way open and stepping aside in a silent invitation. 

Kelley’s not stupid enough to turn it down. 

Emily’s in a grey UVA hoodie and black yoga pants and her hair is up in a messy bun, her makeup from earlier scrubbed off. Her eyes are red, confirming Kelley’s suspicions, but still she looks gorgeous. Still she’s enough to take Kelley’s breath away. 

Emily lets the door fall shut behind Kelley and stays put, not moving, not quite meeting her eyes, and definitely not saying anything. 

Kelley knows it’s on her to get this started. She opens her mouth and she thinks of all of the words she’d thought up on the way to Emily’s room, all the things she was going to say, the speech she’d mentally prepared. 

It melts away, dying on the tip of her tongue. It’s not enough. It’s not right. 

“Hi,” she mutters lamely. 

Emily lets out a snort, and Kelley can tell she was expecting more as she spits out, “Hi,” in return. 

Kelley’s blowing this and she knows it. Her mind is racing and her palms are sweaty and her mouth feels like it’s full of cotton, and if she doesn’t say something helpful soon she’s going to blow this and she might not get another chance. 

“I should have said yes!” she blurts. 

Emily’s eyes flick up to meet hers, finally, and Kelley sees the faintest glimmer of something that might just be hope, and it spurs her on. 

“When you asked me if I even wanted to make this work, I should have said yes. I should have said yes, I do. I should have chased after you and told you I would work on this, I would work on us. I should have told you that I’d fight for us. I should have told you that I’d work on my jealousy and I’d work on being better at communicating. I should have -” 

Kelley hesitates. Once the words are out there’s no taking them back, and Emily still hasn’t said a word. Emily’s just looking at her, her eyes wide, a large swallow going down her throat, her lips slightly parted. Emily’s looking and waiting and this might be her only chance to say it. Maybe it’s worth never being able to take them back. 

“I should have told you I love you.” Kelley’s voice is low and hoarse, but she knows Emily hears because she can hear the sharp inhale of breath Emily takes, so she keeps going. “I should have told you I love you and I should have kept telling you every day in every way, and instead I let myself get scared and I let myself get mad because I thought I was protecting myself, but really I was just an idiot in love and-”

Emily’s lips are softer than she remembers, but there’s nothing soft about the kiss. Emily presses her into the wall with her body and her mouth, fingers curling into Kelley’s sweatshirt, lips needy against her own, tongue eager and demanding as it swipes into her mouth. 

As soon as she was kissing her, she’s gone, putting space between them, panting as she looks at her. 

Kelley wants to chase her. She wants to close the distance and kiss her and kiss her until the only thing either of them feels is pleasure, but she knows that she came there to fix this, and to do that they need to talk. 

Emily pants, her chest rising and falling distractingly, her blue eyes darting between Kelley’s. “Do you mean it?” she asks. 

Kelley nods, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “Yes.”

“When you didn’t answer-” Emily says, her brows creasing, and Kelley can tell she’s reliving the moment. “It broke me,” she admits in a voice so small Kelley has to strain her ears to hear it. 

“I know.”

“I thought -”

“I know,” Kelley interrupts. “God, Em, I know, and I’m so so sorry.” 

“And then I saw you today and it felt like- It was like my chest was caving in on itself. It was like my lungs forgot how to hold air. It was like -”

“Like everything you’d been trying not to feel was suddenly all you could focus on?” Kelley suggests. 

Emily nods and Kelley can’t help but step towards her. 

Emily shifts back, but she doesn’t step away, so Kelley takes that as encouragement. 

She reaches out and touches Emily’s elbow. It’s not a lot, but she hopes it tells Emily that she’s here, that she’s listening, that she’s not planning on going anywhere unless Emily makes her. 

“I don’t do well with emotions.”

Kelley lets out a small bark of laughter. “Trust me, Em. I know. That makes two of us.”

Emily nods. 

“But if we- If I’m even going to consider- We have to be better, Kel.”

Kelley doesn’t know if it’s the nickname or the earnestness in her voice, but Kelley can’t hold back anymore. She pulls Emily to her, wrapping her tightly in her arms. “I know,” she murmurs into Emily’s shoulder. “I know. We will. I will. I...I’ll fight this time. I’ll fight for this. I’ll fight for us.”

She feels Emily nod into her shoulder, her chin digging in almost painfully. “Okay,” Emily whispers. 

“Okay?” Kelley asks, hoping that she knows what that means, but not willing to be sure. 

“Okay,” Emily says. “Me too.”

Kelley feels her heart soar and she squeezes Emily a little tighter, her body fitting perfectly against her own. 

“Kel, I’m sorry, too. If I hadn’t- If I’d stayed, or if I-”

“It’s okay,” Kelley soothes. 

“It’s not,” Emily counters.

Kelley doesn’t argue. Instead, she turns her face just enough so that she can kiss Emily’s head. 

“Can we- Can we just deal with everything in the morning?” Emily asks. “Tonight, I just want- I want-” 

Kelley can feel Emily’s hands sliding under her sweatshirt, and heat floods through her at her touch, her hands warm. Her fingers trace along the waistline of Kelley’s sweatpants and Kelley lets out a shuddery breath. 

“Are you sure?” she asks. “We don’t have to. I didn’t come here expecting- Well, expecting anything, really. I just-” Kelley’s words get lost in a strangled whimper as Emily’s fingers dip under the waistband of her sweats and right into her underwear, not touching anything that matters, just rubbing gently in place. She’s growing wet at so little and she can already feel tension coiling low in her gut, and she wants more. She wants more so bad. But she needs to make sure they’re on the same page. She can’t fall into bed if tomorrow they’re just going to wake up and regret their decisions. She has to know they’re working towards the same thing here. 

She captures Emily’s hands in her own, interlocking their fingers, pulling them out from inside her sweats, and she steps back so that she can look Emily in the eyes. 

“Em,” she starts, but Emily shakes her head. 

“I don’t want to be alone tonight,” she says, almost pleading. 

Kelley’s so close to giving in without confirmation, she can feel her knees growing weak, just from Emily’s voice, but she can’t. 

“But do you want to be with me?” 

Emily’s eyes flit from Kelley’s lips to her eyes, and then she seems to see what Kelley’s really asking. She swallows hard and she pauses for a long moment. Kelley almost thinks that she’s going to change her mind. That this was just about temporary comfort and not long term solutions. She starts to brace herself for the “no”. 

“Only you. Every night. Always,” Emily whispers. 

Kelley feels her heart soars, and when she kisses Emily this time it’s with no intention of stopping. 

  
  
  


There’s a carefulness as they fall into each other, a temerity that never existed between them before. Each touch, each caress, each kiss feels purposeful in a way it didn’t used to. 

Kelley can’t get lost in the sensations because the feeling of not getting to touch Emily, not being touched by her, is far too fresh. 

Instead, she cherishes each movement, each touch of skin to skin, each time her lips connect with part of Emily. 

They take their time, as urgently as Kelley feels the urge to touch her, she doesn’t rush. She traces her fingers over each spattering of freckles, following each touch with a kiss, a lick. She memorises them in a way she hadn’t thought to the last time they’d done this. She memorises the softness of Emily’s skin, the way her muscles twitch as Kelley’s fingers ghost across her stomach, the small moan that escapes her lips when Kelley brushes a thumb across her nipple. She maps every inch of skin first with her fingers and then with her mouth until Emily is squirming beneath her, one hand twisted in the sheets, the other tangled in Kelley’s hair, hips lifting off the bed, a whimper on her lips. 

“Kelley, please.”

The beg shoots straight to her core, curling tight and hot inside of her. 

She gives in, knowing exactly what Emily wants, remembering what her body needs. 

She thrusts in with two fingers, curling them in the way that she knows makes Emily groan. She kisses along Emily’s jaw, across her collarbone, she scrapes her teeth across Emily’s shoulder, feeling the way she’s already clenching around her fingers, already close. 

Kelley sucks at the base of her throat, not bothering to not leave a mark. She spent too long without Emily. After tonight she doesn’t care if the whole world knows who she wants to be with. 

Emily’s breath is coming out in uneven gasps and her legs are starting to shake and it really won’t be long now, but Kelley’s not ready for round one to end yet. She slows her thrusts, shifting her weight so that she can press in with her body on each thrust, maximizing friction but keeping the pace too slow. 

“Fuck, Kelley, I’m so close, please.”

“Not yet,” Kelley murmurs against the skin of Emily’s breast. She knows it won’t take much, even now. She licks between Emily’s breasts then blows across it, feeling Emily’s answering shiver through her whole body. 

She thrusts in and stops, relishing the feel of being this incredibly close to Emily. She curls her fingers, delighting in the guttural moan that leaves Emily’s lips, the tremble in her legs, the way her fingers tighten in Kelley’s hair. She pulls out slowly, chuckling against Emily’s collarbone when she whimpers in protest, then thrusts again, kissing her way down to Emily’s nipple and licking it hard. 

Emily’s hips buck and she lets out a string of curses and Kelley knows she won’t be able to draw this out much more. 

She does another agonizingly slow thrust, nipping at Emily’s nipple before sucking it into her mouth, and Emily stops mid-curse to just moan. 

“Kelley!” It’s breathless and whined and Kelley knows she’s going to give in, but she wants to watch. She wants to see as Emily topples over the edge. She wants to memorize every crease in her face, every shape her lips make, every gasp, every sound. 

She readjusts again, just so that she can lean back enough to see her while still applying enough pressure. 

“Please,” Emily gasps. 

Kelley kisses her, tenderly, just for a moment, and then she acquiesces. “Come for me, baby.” 

She thrusts in hard and fast, pressing her palm down on Emily’s clit, watching as her eyes slam shut and she reaches out one hand, grasping for the sheets but not really able to find them, She watches as Emily’s back arches off the bed and her lips purse into a thin line before falling open with a gasp and a strangled, “Fuck!” She watches as Emily’s entire body shudders through waves of orgasm and she feels as she clenches around her fingers over and over, and she commits every sight and every sound and every feeling to memory, filing it away as something to cherish on a lonely day when they’re far apart. 

She brings her down slowly, riding out the waves with her. She’s gentle and careful as she removes her fingers and licks them clean, seeing the lust in Emily’s eyes as she does so. She kisses her tenderly, ignoring the thrumming of her own body, the wetness pooled between her own legs, the eager anticipation of being touched. For a moment she simply gives and lets Emily take. 

“I missed you,” she whispers against Emily’s lips. 

Emily bites down on Kelley’s lip, her fingers trailing down Kelley’s sides and grabbing her ass. Kelley feels herself shiver as she feels the slight tug, and realizes what Emily wants. 

“I missed you more,” Emily replies as she guides Kelley up. “I missed you so much,” she hums against Kelley’s thighs as Kelley straddles her head. 

When Kelley comes, hands braced against the wall, curses falling from her lips, eyes squeezed shut as the world spins, she believes that maybe Emily did. 

  
  
  


Kelley wakes up breathing in Emily’s shampoo, her hair tickling her cheek. She curls tighter around Emily, her arm possessive around her stomach, their legs tangled together. 

She could wake up every day like this, she realizes. 

Maybe it’s the wedding vibes from the day before. Maybe it’s the idea of absence making the heart grow fonder. Maybe it’s just how right Emily feels in her arms. 

Whatever the reason, Kelley knows she’s got some thinking to do. Maybe it’s time to re-evaluate where she’s based. Maybe it’s time to listen to what her body’s been telling her about how rough the sport she loves is on it. Maybe it’s just time to readjust her priorities. 

No, definitely that last one. 

Emily stirs in her arms and there’s a soft smile on her face when she turns her head to look at Kelley. 

It’s half sleepy and half content and it’s the most beautiful thing Kelley’s ever seen. 

Kelley bites her lower lip and thinks about keeping that to herself. She thinks about how maybe it’s too much too soon. She thinks about how they got into this mess in the first place. 

“You’re so damn beautiful,” she sighs, brushing some hair away from Emily’s face. 

Emily smiles a little wider and shakes her head. “Why’d you say that?”

“Because I spent three months being an idiot and now I can so I did.”

Emily nods. She gets it, Kelley knows. “Well, good morning,” she mumbles before attempting to stifle a yawn. 

Kelley chuckles. “Good morning,” she murmurs into Emily’s shoulder, following the words with a kiss there. 

“I could do this every day,” Emily says, wrapping her arm over Kelley’s and tucking it in around her even tighter. 

“We still need to talk,” Kelley reminds her. 

Emily nods even as her eyes drift shut. “We will.”

She hears Emily’s breathing grow heavier and knows she’s almost back asleep. “I could do this every day too,” she tells her. 

She doesn’t know if Emily’s even awake enough to hear her. It doesn’t really matter. She’ll tell her again later. For now, the small contented hum that Emily makes is enough. 

For now she gets to hold her close and breathe her in and play back the memories she made last night. 

For now she has something she didn’t have yesterday morning but it feels like everything right now: she has hope. 

“For the rest of my life,” she adds before snuggling back into Emily’s back and drifting off to a dreamless sleep. 

  
  
  



End file.
